


Started from the Bottom

by VictoriaAGrey



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Cargument, Crack, Humor, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 15:52:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3856348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaAGrey/pseuds/VictoriaAGrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Steve bottomed and one time he didn't.<br/>OR<br/>Five times Danny was tricked into topping, got mad about it, and finally sorta kinda gets his way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Started from the Bottom

**Author's Note:**

> One minute I was a casual viewer and the next I sold my soul to McDanno.
> 
> That's why this fic happened.
> 
> I am so sorry.

Their first time together is about what you would expect out of a repressed Navy SEAL and a loudmouthed hothead hell bent on making the aforementioned Navy SEAL scream. Lots of tripping on the stairs, buttons from Danny’s shirt and the zipper of Steve’s favorite cargo-pants were sacrificed for the cause, and there was enough passion between them to burn the house down. Although, in all fairness, Steve didn’t mean to knock the candle onto the floor and set the rug on fire. It just happened and after they put the flames out, they went right back to where they’d left off.

Overall, it was a performance that deserved an encore or two.

The following weeks were some of the happiest Danny ever had. Chin and Kono, the treacherous bastards, took fifteen minutes out of the work day when they were informed of their changed relationship status to swap money in their alarmingly elaborate bet, Chin coming out of the exchange victorious with $15 profit. Rachel sent a fruit basket – _a fucking fruit basket_ – with a note wishing them well. Grace was elated because it meant seeing her newly promoted Step Steve more often. Cath sent a satellite photo of them sitting on their chairs along the shore with a winky face drawn in the corner. Mary seemed more confused than anything, thinking they were already together.

Danny wondered what it said about him and Steve’s relationship over the years that while some were caught off guard by their announcement, no one was actually surprised.

And Steve. Oh, Steve was the best thing to happen to Danny since Grace was born, even before the benefit of being able to fuck him senseless at the end of a tough workday. He was a surprisingly attentive lover, treating every roll in the sheets like a mission whose objective was to get Danny off. On the weekends, he always made an effort to do something special, whether it be planning dates or cooking them breakfast in bed (he wasn’t exactly the best cook in the world but damned would be Danny before he told him that). When push came to shove, Danny was a little stunned that their relationship really wasn’t that different from what it was before, the only notable exceptions being that he sold his house and when he was frustrated with Steve he could take it out on him in a sexual manner.

So when they decided a few months in they were ready to try actual fucking, full-on one inside the other fucking, Danny wasn’t too shocked to find himself on the bottom. Not that he cared, mind you, it just didn’t come out of left field like their first kiss did (one minute saying goodbye and the next chasing after his car in the rain to kiss him through the rolled down window? Steve couldn’t be any more cliché if he tried) is what he means. When the night came that they planned to try – _damn right they fucking scheduled it_ , Steve treaded around Danny carefully. Took him to dinner, gave him lots of affection, slid several thinly veiled outs into the conversation. Steve’s pussy footing around only stopped once Danny literally threw the bottle of lubricant and a condom at his chest. Danny commended Steve for his generous amount of foreplay, his gentle and patient prep work, and the control he exerted over himself so Danny could adjust to having him inside him. As first times went, it was one for the books and he couldn’t wait for a repeat experience.

Which is why he actually was surprised when Steve approached him and asked to be on the bottom the next time they fucked. Danny wasn’t under the impression that he was going to be the perpetual bottom in the bedroom, he just didn’t think Steve would be so quick and so eager to have a go, him being the control freak that he is and all. But who be it of him to say no when he so clearly wasn’t capable of doing so in any other venue. The following weekend they agreed to give it a go and when the time came, Danny found himself doing exactly what Steve had done prior to them fucking the first time. Also in a similar show of what happened last time, Steve threw the lubricant and condom at him. The whole evening had a very déjà vu feel to it until Danny was inside him. From what he could recall - and he could recall a lot, thank you very much - he didn’t grab that slats on the headboard as he writhed around moaning like a whore who caught the holy ghost during Sunday mass. The show was probably one of the most erotic sights of his life and he came quicker than he had hoped to, but not before Steve came with an actual scream as he arched his back off the bed.

Frankly, he was appalled that the neighbors didn’t call the cops, like any good neighbor who heard a scream like that should. Not that he wanted to explain the screaming to a pair of unknowing cops, but it was the principle of the matter.

After Steve came back to the real world, Danny asked if he was okay and if he enjoyed it, like any good partner should. What he was rewarded with for his concern was a look that screamed “wow you are really dumb but you’re hot so I’ll let it slide.” He knew that look well and absolutely did not appreciate seeing it again, but seeing as Steve still looked fucked out of his mind, more so than he usually was anyway, he didn’t ream him a new one about bedroom etiquette. The morning after brought with it orgasms, the Jets finally winning a damn game, and a special twinkle in Steve’s eyes when he asked if he wanted them to take turns bottoming.

Navigating a sexual relationship with Steve was turning out to be a lot easier than Danny had ever anticipated.

~~~

Danny glared out with window on the way home, the wheels of the Camaro eating up the pavement at a speed beyond the limit. He was making sure he radiated copious amounts of irritation, anger, worry, and pure, unadulterated fury. The stiffness in his shoulders, his tightly crossed arms, and the fact that he had turned his entire body towards the door were clear warning signals to stay away and let him brute in peace.

“Danny - ”

Clearly Steve did not receive that message.

“Not a word, Steve. Not a fucking word.”

“Danno - ”

“No, don’t you Danno me. I know what you’re doing, I do, and I don’t like it.”

“Can you at least let me explain?” Steve’s earnest tone, like he actually thought he could explain what happened and make it sound logical, only served to grate on Danny’s last nerve.

“Explain!? Explain what!? Like the fact that you ignored my request that you wait for back up for the millionth time? Or how it is eighteen levels of wrong for you to put yourself in the path of a bullet to _protect_ a _serial killer_? Or – and this is my favorite bit – or the part where you have the _gall_ to be amazed when said serial killer turns on you and gets a shot off of his own at you before you can disarm him?”

“When you put it like that - ”

“When I put it - ” Danny sputters as the car comes to a stop on the driveway. “ – when I put it like that!? Are you insane!?”

“I’m - ”

“No, don’t answer that, I know you are! I’m reiterating to you the actual events of the day. That is what days with you actually sound like, Steven. It is half the reason, no, it is the _entire_ reason HPD hasn’t figured out why we all aren’t dead nine times over! And don’t even get me started on actual police procedure and how many violations you got today alone. It’s a wonder that we’ve convicted even one person with your habit of not paying attention to the law, like, at all.”

Danny wrenched on the door handle and practically threw himself out of the car to get out of the enclosed space. It was times like these that Danny truly did wonder if Steve’s self-preservation instinct lie dead along with the rest of his junk DNA, which was basically everything that that didn’t include his good looks or any faculty he would need to effectively wield a piece of string in a deadly fashion.

“Full immunity and means,” Steve quickly replied from behind him on the way to the front door, as if that was some kind of Band-Aid term that fixed all of his procedural boo boos.

Spinning around fast enough to startle the Super SEAL into taking a step back, Danny pointed his finger at his annoyingly taut chest in his annoyingly tight shit. “Does not give you the right to stomp all over the law like it doesn’t pertain to you!”

“But it does.”

Bless him, he looked like he tried to stop the words from falling out of his stupid, beautiful mouth, but he just couldn’t quite accomplish that feat. He could probably climb Mount Kilimanjaro naked with a banana leaf and a stick of gum and survive, but for the life of him he couldn’t stop those words. With a calm he did not feel, Danny turned away from him, unlocked the door, and immediately made his way for the stairs.

“So we’re above the law now are we?”

“We always have been,” he heard Steve mumble behind him as he caught up to him on the stairs. “That’s why we were created.”

“I’m going to murder you and bury you out back. I’ll say it was in the line of duty. I will single handedly being saving Hawaii from the menace to society and police procedure that is you.”

Both fell silent as they stripped themselves of their work clothes, thoughts of cold beer and leftover Chinese swirling through Danny’s mind as he reached for his sweatpants. He was stopped by Steve grabbing his forearm and grazing his lips across the shell of his ear.

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am, but you’re going to have to specify about what.”

“I was reckless. I’m sorry,” he whispered in his ear, his voice taking on a tantalizing octave that made Danny completely forget about beer and food.

“Took you long enough to see the light, but better late than never.”

“Hmm,” he heard Steve murmur by way of reply as his hands moved up his arms and he pressed his bare chest against Danny’s back. The punch of arousal he felt multiplied when he felt Steve’s hard-on touch his back. Motherfucker was _naked_. Did the guy even know what a fair fight was!?

“I know what would make you feel better.”

Oh, Jesus. That tone, Danny cannot resist that tone.

“You fucking me hard into that mattress might do wonders. I clearly deserve it.”

Dear god, all Danny wanted was see his little girl grow up into a woman and live until he was old with a decent head of hair. None of that would happen if Steve kept going. It would not happen because he would die right then and there.

“I should be punished.”

That night Danny never did get that bottle of beer he thought he needed, but he did get Steve bent over the bed screaming obscenities at god, which he felt was an even trade.

Crime and punishment. Danny was more than happy to teach the finer points of it to Steve.

~~~

Danny woke to the smell of coffee wafting into the room from downstairs, the presence of only cold pillows greeting him at his side not surprising him in the least. He stretched his stiff limbs in a bid to wake them, the pull of his muscles making him groan in dull contentment. Willing himself out of bed, he walked towards the bathroom to take care of business. The week Five-0 just had tried them in ways he previously didn’t think possible and it was nice to wake up after a full night’s sleep and do something as simple as pee without feeling like he was under a time constraint. Pulling on a pair of basketball shorts and one of Steve’s old Navy shirts, he made his way downstairs, yawning and scratching his messy hair as he contemplated a morning lazing around until he went to go pick up Grace for the weekend.

“Babe, you back already?” he called into the house, receiving no answer.

Eyes zeroing their attention in on the coffee maker, he walked towards it and filled his waiting mug on autopilot. The fresh Kona worked miracles on his dry throat and he closed his eyes as he swallowed, enjoying the simple pleasure of drinking his morning coffee knowing today was going to be an easy day with his daughter and partner. Finishing the first cup quickly and pouring his second, he smiled at the thought of Steve and all the little things he did for him, like setting the coffee to brew so he could have it at seven on the dot, a time Steve was usually still out doing his morning workout.

Cradling the mug between his fingers, the smell of the ocean mixing perfectly with the coffee’s scent, he turned to look out beyond the lanai in the hopes of seeing if Steve would be coming in any time soon. What he saw nearly made him drop his coffee and dribble out what was left in his mouth from his last gulp.

There Steve was, naked as the day he was born, walking towards the house as if this were an everyday occurrence. Water left glimmering trails down his ridiculously toned body and the way he lifted his arms to run his fingers through his hair confirmed to Danny that this was Steve putting on a show. A fucking strip tease without the stripping to drive Danny up a fucking wall. It fucking worked too because he was almost painfully hard, blood going south at a speed that left him breathless and his face tingling.

“Up already? I’m shocked,” Steve said in a casual tone as he entered the kitchen without toweling off, the final nail in the coffin of what Danny thought of as Steve’s doing-this-to-make-Danny-so-hard-his-dick-quits scheme. And let it never be said that Danny’s analytical skills ever went offline, no matter how turned on he was, because he knew that was not only a lie, he was _always_ up by now, but that double entendre made him want to punch a wall.

“Uh... yeah. Umm – yeah, I’m definitely up.”

“Don’t you like a touch of chocolate with your Kona?” he inquired innocently, unnecessarily standing on the tips of his toes as he leaned against the counter which, Jesus fucking Christ, curved his spine to accentuate the dip in the small of back that led to the swell of his ass, down to his flexed calves. Danny, amidst thoughts that he was going to _die_ from this experience, belatedly noticed that Steve had retrieved the chocolate from the top shelf. Where it never was, ever.

Honestly, he was going to kill Steve for this. He was. There was no stopping him.

“Come out when you’re done,” were Steve’s departing words after he swirled some chocolate into Danny’s Kona, licked the fucking spoon, winked at him, and fucking sauntered back outside like Danny wasn’t actively losing pieces of his sanity inside.

Danny couldn’t help thinking he was fucked, until he got the bright idea that, no, Steve was fucked. Steve was so fucked.

Only weeks later did he think to question the lubricant and condom Steve pulled out from under the table when he told Steve he was going to fuck him so hard he would see stars.

Some detective he was.

~~~

If Danny had known how much paperwork would be involved in being Five-0, he would have very seriously reconsidered joining. Not that he joined, more like he was shanghaied into the job, but he would have protested a little more strenuously than he did.

Chin and Kono had already taken their leave hours ago, Danny and Steve shooing them out after they offered to help them finish up because they had already completed their work, their workload a little less since they weren’t the heads of the department. Danny thought he was going cross-eyed towards the end, but when he finally finished, he felt a not altogether undeserved sense of accomplishment. Running his hands down his face, just to make sure it was still there and hadn’t melted off hours before, he got up from his desk and made his way towards Steve’s office.

Opening the door and knocking on the metal doorframe, he asked, “You about ready to go, babe?”

“Getting there,” he replied as he waved his hand in the direction of the new black leather couch he’d bought a week ago for reasons unbeknownst to Danny. “Why don’t you rest. Don’t want you getting cranky.”

The cheeky smirk Steve gave him as he looked up from whatever he was signing is all that kept him from chucking something at him. Throwing himself onto the couch, he wriggled around until he was in a comfortable position to settle down in, putting an arm over his eyes to block out the light from Steve’s lamp.

“I’m quitting Five-0,” Danny announced after several minutes of companionable silence.

“Oh, really?” Steve responded, his tone teasing and light. “What finally pushed you over the edge, Daniel?”

“Paperwork, Steven, is the bane of my existence. Can’t “full immunity and means” also pertain to paperwork? I don’t feel like having my autopsy findings say that I died via 8,000 self-inflicted papercuts.”

Chuckling from his desk, Danny heard Steve moving stuff around in a way that suggested he was finished for the evening. “Suicide by papercuts? That would certainly be a new one for Max.”

“I’m almost there. If I have to fill out one more requisition form for your grenades, I’m outta here.”

“I’ve never made you fill out a form for grenades.”

“Lies.”

Danny couldn’t say whether or not he drifted off to sleep for a few minutes, but what he does know is that when he came back around, Steve was straddling his hips, gently grinding into him as he kissed his neck.

“Welcome back.”

“What’re you doing?” he muttered as Steve flicked his tongue over his earlobe, making him moan and buck upwards, lacing his fingers through Steve’s short, soft hair.

“I think it’s pretty obvious what I’m doing.”

“We are not having sex in your office.”

“Your body says otherwise.”

And that was the crux of the whole thing because his body _loved it_ , loved the potential danger of getting caught fucking his boss in his office, the glass walls doing nothing to hide them if someone were to come in. He was prepared to offer one last two-bit protest, but then Steve did that thing with his ass that Danny couldn’t resist even if he really wanted to. He then thanked the heavens above and every SEAL school in existence for instilling preparedness in its students when Steve pulled lubricant and a condom out from inside his cargo-pants.

And that’s how Danny ended up fucking Steve on his brand new office couch, without a care for the world outside.

Danny really did love that couch.

~~~

Not that Danny would ever admit it, but tonight had been one of the best nights of his life and it was all thanks to Grace, Steve, and the ocean lovingly lapping at his feet. They had just dropped Grace off with Rachel after a steak dinner that capped off a week – _a whole week_! – of having her with them. It was like the gods had been appeased by the massive amounts of paperwork he’d done recently because nothing earth shattering happened during her whole stay. He went to work after dropping her off at school and picked her up afterwards. Everyone was happy and it was perfect. Of course it didn’t last, dropping her back off at Rachel’s had been like swallowing a bitter pill, but Steve brought him out to their little stretch of beach with a few beers and suddenly the sand and ocean were calming instead of maddening.

After the sun set and the ocean tides glittered black and blue, Danny took Steve by the hand and led him inside, his intent made clear by him gliding his thumb suggestively across his purlicue. A good, long fuck would be the perfect ending to the day. The kind where you spend ungodly amounts of time exploring each other’s body, getting to know every nook and cranny, and in the case of Steve and Danny, scar, before you finally get down to it. And even then it would be slow and sweet; the gentle slide of skin, soft caresses, and heated looks that took it down from fucking to making love. It would be new territory for them, but Danny was sure he could make it happen.

One thing Steve never skimmed on was foreplay. He loved it, reveled in it even, so when Danny laid him on the bed and started their night off with a simple make out session, he didn’t push for him to pick up the pace; just laid there, hands tracing patterns over Danny’s back as he kissed him back with gusto. When he moved his kisses to his neck, sucking hard enough to make a point but not leave a mark, Danny could feel Steve’s appreciative moans along his skin. The slow build, the mounting tension, it was driving them both wild.

Only after Danny had stripped them both bare and Steve was starting to make that face he made when he was getting needy did he flip them so Steve was on top, Danny making it perfectly clear that he wanted to bottom by wrapping his legs around his waist and grinding upwards. Steve’s body immediately stiffened - _and not in the sexy way_ \- and before Danny could question it, Steve growled into the crook of his neck and flipped them so Danny was back on top.

“You want me to bottom from the top?” he asked, his voice taking on that rough edge he knew Steve liked so much as he continued to move their bodies together in a sensuous rhythm. “I can do that.”

“No, no,” Steve rasped, his hands moving down to grip Danny’s ass. “I wanna be on the bottom.”

“You’ve bottomed every time except for the first. I think it’s my turn.”

“But I’ve thought about this all day. I’ve wanted you inside me all day.”

Yeah, well, Danny had been thinking about having Steve back inside him _for weeks_ and that hadn’t happened yet. Insecurity that maybe he wasn’t as good a bottom as he thought he was and irritation with not getting to bottom _again_ roiled around inside his gut, only stopping when Steve grabbed the hand stroking him and guided it down to his ass.

“God, Danny, please. I need you, I need this.”

Danny got what he wanted that night, a night of making love rather than straight up fucking, but that didn’t stop the aching in his ass that had nothing to do with anything going inside it.

~~~

A few days had passed since Danny had first made love to Steve and the insecure thoughts he’d had about whether he was a good bottom or not had left the metaphorical building, leaving him feeling incensed in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He _knew_ he was a good bottom, an exceptional one even, and he _knew_ Steve knew it. That first time they’d fucked, Steve had been beside himself afterwards. He kept telling him how good he felt, how the way he moved himself under him was delicious, and the sounds he made were enough to drive any man crazy. He’d had such a fucking ego trip afterwards that he was pretty sure he fell asleep with a cocky grin on his face.

But Steve’s insistence at being the bottom every time they’d fucked since that first time made him think something was wrong, that Steve was hiding something. After much internal debate, Danny checked his laptop’s browser history (honestly, the guy was kind of an idiot when it came to personal computer security. He didn’t even have a password on it) and found numerous articles about bottoming, dealing with everything from tips for being a better bottom to, adorably even though he would never confess to it, positions for couples with height differences. The kicker though, the one that sent it all from cute to rage inducing, was an article about convincing your lover that you wanted to bottom even if you were a top.

Luckily, Steve wasn’t home yet from hiking with Chin after Danny’s initial wave of anger, so Danny went to go grab an early dinner with Kono at Kamekona’s. She could tell something was off immediately, but rather than prodding, she did everything she could to distract him. She was a godsend and a wave of fondness reminded him of why he thought of her as family. By the time they parted and headed home, he wasn’t any less mad, but he did have a better grasp on it.

Steve’s mammoth man truck was parked in the driveway when he got home, so he knew Steve was back from his man-date with Chin and had survived whatever trouble they had inevitably gotten themselves into. Walking up the path, Danny made sure he was in control of himself so he could talk to Steve about their little problem without flying off the handle and solving nothing.

The first thing Danny noticed when he walked inside was Steve’s hiking shoes on the floor, like he’d just kicked them off and left them there, as well as his sweaty shirt hanging over the stair’s banister.

“Filthy animal,” he muttered to himself as he picked up Steve’s shoes and shirt as he made his way upstairs.

Walking into the bedroom, he was gearing up to start confronting Steve when he heard a moan that sounded suspiciously like his name emit from the bathroom. Dropping Steve’s stuff in a corner, Danny went into the bathroom and damn near passed out when he saw Steve, composed roboSuperSEAL Steve, writhing around his own fingers as he opened himself up and his other hand grasped fruitlessly at the tile wall of his shower, the foggy glass panes doing nothing to hide what he was doing.

“Jesus, Mary, Joseph take me now,” Danny gasped as he was suddenly overcome by the heat, and not just the heat from the humidity of Steve’s shower.

“Danny,” he whimpered – _actually whimpered_ – when he heard him. “Please, now. I’m ready.”

A stronger man would have told him no and demanded they talk first.

A stronger man would have told him to pull his fingers out of his ass so they could talk right away.

Danny was not a stronger man.

He stripped himself faster than a stripper who had rent due the next day and got into the shower, running his hands up and down Steve’s back in an attempt to center himself and not come the second he was inside him.

“Condom?”

“We’re both clean. No. I want to feel you.”

Not two minutes ago had the fire in his belly been actual anger, now it was all simmering arousal pushing him over the edge. But that didn’t mean he was going to let it go or, at least, clue him in.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, because I do.”

“I’m – OH, fuck yeah,” Steve cried as Danny pushed inside of him in one fluid thrust. “- well aware of that.”

~~~

Several days had passed and not another word had been spoken, whether directly or indirectly, about the Steve-never-topping issue. It didn’t cause any tension between them because there was no time for it to do so. Some South African smugglers trying to make a name for themselves in Hawaii had kept them plenty busy, what with all the getting shot at and stopping them from killing their competitors thing. All Danny wanted was a good, long shower now that he was full, Steve having made them steak and potatoes for dinner.

But first things first.

“We’re having sex tonight.”

Those who said Danny always talked in circles before getting to the point can kiss his ass.

“Sounds good,” Steve replied with a smile he didn’t bother to hide, or failed miserably at doing so. “I’ve got the perfect position for us to try.”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

The mischievous glint in his eyes sparkled magnificently in the light of the setting sun. “Did you know I can bend my legs behind my head?”

This was so not fucking fair because no, Danny did not know that and he really, _really_ , wanted to witness such a marvelous feat. His dick was _aching_ to see it and the images his brain produced were not helping Danny’s cause. He wanted to bottom for fuck’s sake and Steve kept stealing the show, fucking greedy ass bottom. Swallowing past his cottonmouth, he crossed his legs in a poor effort to contain his dick and look unruffled by his proposition.

“Won’t that be a little difficult to pull off from the top?”

The flash of disappointment and panic to cross Steve’s face did not go unnoticed as he lifted his wine glass to down some of his favorite red. “I’m flexible, not suicidal. I’ll be on my back.”

“No, because I will be.”

“But the position -”

“I’m bottoming tonight, Steven. We’ll try that position next time.”

“But -”

“The only butt in this equation is mine, with the addition of your dick inside it. Any complaints you may wish to lodge in regards to this arrangement must be done, through me, right now.”

Steve’s pout – _fucking hell, what is he_? _Five_? – reached epic proportions by the time Danny finished talking. He obviously had something to say, but he was biting down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself. That wasn’t going to fly with Danny, not tonight, because he was already keeping enough secrets as it was regarding their sex life, they didn’t need more, nor did he want this problem to spill over into the rest of their relationship. This needed to stop right here, right now.

“If you have something to say, you need to say it,” he said with a gentle lilt to his voice, not wanting to convey anything but understanding.

“I don’t want to top tonight.”

Danny would have been tempted to laugh at his bashful expression if it wasn’t for the fact that it clearly wasn’t an act. He was uncomfortable and there was undoubtedly something there to it beyond the whole who tops subject.

“Babe, you never want to top. Why -”

“I have topped!”

“Once, Steve, the first time and never again. And don’t get me wrong, I love topping as much as the next guy but there are times where I want to be on the bottom, too. Truthfully, I’m shocked you want to bottom at all because of your constant need to be in control of everything.”

Steve started shifting in his seat, all the signs of fight or flight playing across his features and Danny knew that he needed to get everything on the table right quick or he was going to lose him to whatever mental wall he was trying to build.

“Also, I’d like for you to tell me why you read up on how to trick your partner, that partner here being me, that you like to bottom when you’re a top.”

“You’re spying on me.”

Wow, leave it to Steve to latch onto that like a man to a buoy stranded out in the middle of the ocean rather than the real problem.

“Cool your jets there, Columbo, I checked your browser history. Not have SEAL Team Nine surveil you,” he clarified, not wanting to get sidetracked. “If the only reason you’ve bottomed is because you think it’ll please me, that’s not what I want. I want us to enjoy ourselves, not have one of us feel like they’re obligated -”

“That’s not it.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s not it. I read that article, but not for the reason you think.”

“Alright, I’ll bite. Why’d you read it?”

“Because, like you said, you’re surprised I would be willing to bottom at all,” Steve explained, gaining steam by the word. “I needed to convince you that I liked it so you _wouldn’t_ think I was doing it out of obligation. That’s why I read it. Their angle may have been a manipulative one, but mine was out of an honest desire to show you I enjoy it.”

Never before had Danny wanted to kiss Steve more than he did in that moment, even including that time they got trapped in a janitor’s closet for five minutes to hide from some perps making a drug deal down the hall.

“Then why didn’t you just tell me you prefer to bottom from the get go?”

For somebody trained in how to kill people with a toenail, Steve was dreadful at lying when under direct fire. The quick averting of his eyes spoke volumes to Danny and he didn’t know whether to be furious, honored, or just plain old confused.

“You’d never bottomed before.”

He didn’t say it as a question because he didn’t have to; he knew Steve had never bottomed just as he knew he had a soft spot for Lady Gaga the size of Timbuktu. Not everything had to be said verbally in order for him to hear it.

“I have control issues.”

“Yes, I know. Thank you for finally admitting it, but that wasn’t the point of what I said. You told me before we tried the first time that you preferred to top.”

“I did.”

“Because you’d never been on the bottom before! You lied.”

“I omitted.”

“That’s still lying. You should have told me it was your first time!”

“I was hardly a blushing virgin, Danny,” he laughed, still sounding strained but no longer like a flight risk. “What more would you have done? Lit candles? Serenaded me in the moonlight? Flown me to the Jersey Shore and proposed to me over a funnel cake?”

“I hate you. I hate you so much right now.”

“If anything you should be flattered. Nobody else has had a piece of this sweet ass. It’s all yours. And it means I trust you more than any of my other partners. I left them if they so much as suggested me bottoming. I trust you enough to let go of control for awhile.”

And that, that right there, is why Steve would never cease to amaze Danny. One second he was an arrogant, boastful bastard and the next he would be saying the Steve-equivalent of sweet nothings. God, he was so in love he couldn’t see straight.

“That’s why you’re so insatiable to bottom now, isn’t it? You’ve never had it and now that you have, you can’t get enough.”

“That’s classified.”

“You know what? You just killed it, you just killed all of my good will. Just for that, you’re topping the next ten times.”

“Fine. Then I’ll start doing yoga in the morning. Naked. And I’ll be sure to do every position that looks like it could be used for sex.”

Admitting defeat, because god knows his dick would fall off out of sexual frustration if that were to happen, he stood from the table, hard-on evident in his pants, and tilted his head to let Steve know he should follow him inside. Not bothering to clear their dishes, they made their way for the stairs.

“You’re still topping tonight, or no sex is happening at all. No matter what you do.”

“Even if I do the thing with my ass you love so much?”

“ _Especially_ if you do that.”

_Two hours later_

“Oh my god,” Danny sighed, his body a masterpiece in how good sex could wreck a body. He could practically _feel_ the endorphins trilling through his muscles, making his appendages twitch minutely as they adjusted to the high. Sweat covered every inch of  his skin and the cum on his stomach was starting to cool. His head felt light as a cloud, the rest of him heavy by comparison. And, good lord, his throat felt raw from the racquet he’d been causing.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed in a throaty rumble that sounded far more like a grunt than a real agreement.

Leaning over the side of the bed, Danny picked his undershirt up from the floor and wiped it over his chest in a pale attempt at cleaning himself up. He was exhausted and he didn’t particularly care if he took a shower that night. Steve seemed to have similar thoughts, if throwing his arm across Danny’s chest and curling up along his side as they steadily leveled out again was anything to read into.

“Starting to remember what you loved about topping?”

He was hoping that maybe this reminder would make Steve more amenable to topping more often than once every decade or so.

“Mhmm,” he mumbled back and right when they were edging towards sleep, Danny drifting off to happy thoughts that he would get fucked more often, Steve muttered, “Can’t wait to show you how flexible I am next time.”

Danny feebly tried to remember what that old saying was about horses and water before he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first McDanno fic, so please be gentle!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed your read!
> 
> Let me know what you think either here or on my Tumblr, [mycroft-silently-judges-you](http://mycroft-silently-judges-you.tumblr.com)!


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